


Intentions Misconstrued

by CreepyCoat



Category: Devilman (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Blood, British spelling/grammar, Demon/Human Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Manipulation, Not Beta Read, Rough Sex, Ryo is jealous of Miki, Set before everything went to shit in the anime, crybaby verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-05-14 17:13:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreepyCoat/pseuds/CreepyCoat
Summary: How far would you go, to ensure that you were the first? To claim everything from another. What happens when those intentions lead to unforeseen consequences?Ryo has a plan. It ends up working a little too well.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to my amazing wife: Anytramaksnisic.  
> She came into my life a couple months ago as if destined by the stars themselves. I adore her dearly, finding inspiration in the chats we share. She has a love for 'darker themed' fanfics and that was what birthed this story.  
> This is for you <333  
> *Hugs and kisses*
> 
> Also she's on tumblr by the same name, (Anytramaksnisic) look her up and be wowed by her gorgeous artwork <333
> 
> Please check the tags before you read.

  
*  
A lot of words could be used to describe Ryo Asuka.

  
Rich. Intelligent. Handsome.

  
Those were the descriptors, that humans put the most value on. To decide how much respect they should assign to another person. They judged others by their appearance: Were their clothes expensive? Did they work a high paying job? But most importantly were they good looking? AKA would they want to fuck him?

Ryo had all three in spades.

Nothing else seemed to factor in after those attributes. It didn't matter to people that underneath that thin veneer of money and good looks he was actually a cold, cunning and downright heartless being.

A sharp grin slit up Ryo's cheek at that last thought. _Heartless_. He didn't understand human emotions; love wasn't real. A combination of biologic chemicals firing signals in the brain resulted in humans rutting against each other like animals and then claiming it was love. A foolish notion, utter stupidity.

Sat in his minimalistic kitchen at his pristine table top, he idly swished the tip of his long elegant finger round and round the rim of a glass. Creating a tiny dull chime, barely audible.

The concept of humans displaying emotions triggered a memory from earlier that day. The one he could not get out of his brain. The one that had caused a strange sensation in his gut. That had made him feel like his insides were coiling tighter and tighter. He wasn't sure as to why.

The memory wavered in his mind, detailing a scene he probably shouldn't have witnessed. Miki Makimura, the tiny human woman, had laid hands on Akira's shoulders, in what to an outsider would have looked innocent but not to Ryo. With his piercing blue eyes he had seen the way Akira's face had flushed red, how his eyes had peered down the slip of her top to spy her breasts. It was blatantly obvious that Akira was sexually attracted to her. That if Ryo didn't intervene now, Akira surely would end up copulating and giving away his virginity to her. End up rutting and sweating like an animal with her. The atrocious idea had been eating at him all day.

  
He couldn't allow it.

Pausing his finger on the rim, he tilted his head to the side, his eyes roving to connect with Psycho Jenny. Standing ever dutifully in the corner, she awaited any order from him.

"Did you complete the arrangements for me?" His voice sounded calm, collected in the still air of his penthouse suite. Inside though his guts tightened further at his plan, his heart beating at an unsteady pace. Nerves or anticipation? He couldn't tell.

Psycho Jenny, merely bowed her head in confirmation.

Pursing his lips together, Ryo hid a small grin. The urge for it to grow wider and consume his face was there but he held it back.

Currently it was dark in the suite, the indoor lights off as the the moon bestowed a strong beam of silver, keeping the room aglow. The silvery glow was speckled with the technicolored lights of the cityscape from beyond the large glass windows. Yet in the corners there stood an untouchable darkness, that not even the light could break.

A firm knock sounded at the door.  
His smile grew. _Right on time._

Diligently Pyscho Jenny answered the door, silently ushering in Akira. The door lay ajar behind her allowing a thin curl of artificial light to slink in. She locked vacant eyes with Ryo, her Master, silently telling him that he could back out from this now, that what he had planned was dangerous.

Ryo merely lifted his hand and made a shooing motion.

With that, she left. The door closing and locking shut.

Akira turned and watched the door close behind him, confused as to why he'd been called over so suddenly. Ryo hadn't offered any explanation over the phone so Akira had just assumed that it was probably demons. On his motorcycle trip over to Ryo's place, he had mentally prepped himself for another rough night mixed with demon blood, sweat and tears.

"Your secretary isn't staying?" He asked while eyeing the closed door. Right as she had left his eyes had firmly glued themselves to her round rear. Resulting in an appreciative twitch in his groin, that he currently was trying his best to suppress. He manoeuvred himself into a slouched stance to hide the little bulge in his groin while he watched Ryo.

The other lithe man had risen from his seat, a quiet smile on his lips, his eyes somewhat distant. Dressed in his usual, white attire, so pristine and without a single crease or wrinkle. Almost like a window shop mannequin that had never been touched.

Seeing Ryo look so flawless brought a moment of self consciousness to him. When was the last time he'd changed his shirt? Discreetly (Or what he hoped was discreet) he sniffed his armpit. Wrinkling his nose up a little. _Yep ripe but he could get away with it for tonight_.

"No, she's running some errands." Ryo easily lied. Carefully he made his way over to the settee in the middle of the glass room, settling himself down in what he hoped seemed like a casual manner.

Hands in his jeans pockets, Akira made the short journey to the settee, throwing himself down with such force that it caused Ryo to bounce a little next to him. Legs set wide apart displaying his groin, (He'd mentally beaten the interest away) he eyed the spread of junk food set upon the tea table in front of them.

"At this time of night?" He halfheartedly finished the earlier conversation. He knew Ryo got up to some strange and shady stuff.

Ryo blew the question away without answering, instead proffering the large platter of junk food burgers still wrapped in grease proof papers. He'd had Jenny stock the heart attack food as Phase #1 of his plan. After all didn't the old time phrase decree that food was the key to a man's heart? Well he was about to test it.

An loud appreciative groan slipped through Akira's full lips. His hands were already filled with burgers as he chowed down, his sharp teeth easily tearing through the meat.

Ryo licked his lips, his eyes following the bulge in Akira's throat as the food made its way down. They travelled lower following his firm and shapely body, appreciating the swell of his pectoral muscles through his black shirt. His eyes ceased their journey on Akira's crotch, taking in the sizeable bulge that was on display. It wasn't that Akira was hard, no, he simply was packing a _big gun_ so to speak. Swallowing Ryo averted his eyes and quickly rose up to his feet.

Hunched forward Akira stuffed a third burger into his mouth, his lips creating wet smacks. Which shouldn't have sounded arousing to Ryo but they did. Each smack of lips created an image in his mind of Akira pressed up close to him, their lips melding into each other, Akira devouring his mouth like those sloppy burgers. _Oh he had it bad_ , if he found such a crass image appealing but then Akira had always been the exception.

"Ain't chu-- gonna- mpff 'ave some too?" Akira asked through mouthfuls of burger, interrupting Ryo's little fantasy.

Rolling his eyes Ryo smiled, he'd been over this with before with Akira, "No I already had my daily fill of sustenance." Meaning the calorie packs.

Akira huffed, and mumbled through another hearty mouthful, "Those aren't, mpphff real food."

Deciding not to reply, Ryo initiated Phase #2. It was quite possibly the most important part of his plan. The tiny hot cinder that would spark and ignite a fire. With a clap of his hands, the surround system inside his suite began to play a low thrumming tune, just a base sound with a plain beat.

Nodding his head appreciatively, Akira continued eating. Unknowingly his heart rate had started to increase, his blood pumping and spreading hot blood faster around his body.

*

A short while and numerous food wrappers later, Akira had finished.

Ryo stood with his arms lose at his sides and eyed up the mountain of rubbish. Pretending to look at the nonexistent watch on his wrist, he said, "Hmm my secretary won't be back for a while. Help me with this mess."

Akira raised an eyebrow at him, surprised by the request. Still he sprung to his feet and gathered all the rubbish in one swoop in his arms. Managing to cradle the trash mountain, he followed along behind Ryo into the open plan kitchen. Unceremoniously he dumped the rubbish into the garbage disposal that efficiently pulled out from under the sink. Absently he noted several dishes and cups settled in the stainless steel sink. He didn't think he'd ever seen dirty dishes in Ryo's sink. Wasn't completely sure if Ryo even ate off plates, didn't he just eat those icky calorie pouch things?

The music in the background began to pickup. Moving from a plain beat to something resembling a walking pace.

It kickstarted something within Akira's chest. Flickered a sensation into life within his ribcage, a bud of lust that stabbed its roots into his heart.

Resolutely Akira fixed his gaze on the dishes to try to hold back the sudden feeling of lust. It didn't help that on the walk over from the settee to the kitchen, his eyes had never once left Ryo's ass. Normally his friend was clad in long loose clothing, probably designer but to Akira it usually just looked like a baggy dress. That was beside the point though as tonight and unfortunately for Akira, Ryo had decided to wear a small white t-shirt, allowing his tight formfitting jeans to highlight the pert shape of his ass. Akira's pupils had dilated as they'd watched two small round globes wiggle ever so slightly as he walked.

Shaking his head, Akira tried to steel himself. Ryo was his oldest friend, he shouldn't have been looking at him that way! Since he'd become a Devilman he struggled to control his urges. Truthfully he worried that one day his resolve would slip and the demonic side would take over. That thought gave him pause. He didn't think he'd ever forgive himself if he ended up hurting Miki or Ryo.

Facing Akira, Ryo wore a small smile, a gleam in his eyes as he flipped on the sinks taps. Water sloshed loudly into the sink, filling it. "Help me wash up."

Side eyeing him, Akira scratched his head and mumbled a, "Yeah sure." The fear burbled in his mind, he could feel his grip on control slipping. His breathing had gotten heavier and his eyes suddenly became fixed on Ryo's neck, mentally licking along that pale soft skin.

Vigorously shaking his head again, he eyed up the door that the secretary had left through, it was probably best that he left now. He could sense that something bad would happen if he stayed any longer. Still Ryo had called him here, surely for some reason? If there wasn't one, he was going.

He only managed a couple words of his question before Ryo cut him off.

"Akira."

And shit, Ryo was looking at him so innocently with those clear blue eyes. He had no idea as to the dirty perverse thoughts crawling around in his friend's mind.

The music built in tempo, a drum beat slotting in. Each whack of the drum sounded like the slaps of bare feet running across hard concrete.

It sent a shiver down Akira's skin and he found himself stretching, his body feeling taut and too hot like he needed to strip. Still he steeled himself focusing on the dishes. Dishes were boring and mundane, nothing arousing about dishes! To be honest he was somewhat disgruntled as he was pretty sure Ryo had never washed a dish in his life. Like he couldn't remember him ever sullying his hands with basic soap water.

Ryo lifted a saucer and due to angle he (purposely) held it at under the tap, the water sprayed back furiously, splashing up onto the front his shirt. He gasped curling his neck back and closing his eyes as the water doused his skin. The thin white fabric instantly soaked through and clung to his skinny frame, the translucent material revealing tiny pink nipples.

At the erotic sight, Akira's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Mentally reeling at the sight, the bud of lust inside his chest spun and unfolded into green petals. He was beginning to feel overwhelmed by the plant as his vision became hyper focused on Ryo's chest, his eyes pinned to those pink cherry like nipples. An image danced in his mind, displaying a fantasy of Ryo entirely nude, his shirt peeling away like a sigh lost in a rush of wind.

Withholding a pleased smirk, Ryo coyly said, "Is something wrong Akira?" He had the collar of his shirt fisted in his hand, raked up revealing his very flat midriff. Water was trickling down into the cute indentation of his belly button. The silver light from the moon highlighting his porcelain skin.

And Akira couldn't tear his eyes away. The petals developed in colour, growing from a green to a light pink. His hand shot out and found purchase on the counter top behind him. Gripping hard enough to burst through the marble like it was sponge. Trying so hard to ground himself, to reel back in his senses before he did something he couldn't undo. A shake or tremble bounced along his arm, the veins popping up from the sheer pressure he was forcing into the counter. Closing his eyes he told himself to focus on the hard marble beneath his fingers.

He felt something soft touch his shoulder.

Ryo, reassuringly checking he was okay.

The simply touch nearly caused him to jump a foot in the air. _Calm down calm down_ he mentally repeated. It was just a simple gesture, it meant nothing, Ryo obviously had no idea as to what kind of thoughts were rampaging through his supposed friend's mind right now. Yet the hand remained on his shoulder, setting his skin on fire, every fibre of his being screaming for him to jump Ryo. Pin him against the counter, tear away those flimsy white clothes and reveal the flesh underneath.

At the salacious imagery bouncing around in his mind, his entire face turned red.  
How could he be thinking these things about Ryo? His friend, his childhood friend for fucks sake!

There was concealed delight in Ryo's face, at the evident reaction he was causing. Only a telltale sparkle in his eyes revealed that he was overjoyed that his plan was coming to fruition. _Yes look at me like that, only me, not her._ Still acting innocent he hid a smirk in the corner of his mouth as he nonchalantly stripped away his shirt. Using, "Its wet." As the reason.

And fuck, it should have been an innocent gesture! It should have been normal for Ryo, his best fricking friend to take off his shirt. Mentally Akira berated himself for being so freaking weak as his eyes traitorously travelled down that slender body, slipping over small pecs and noting the lack of any developed muscles or definition. Ryo was so small, so thin and fragile. His eyes arrived at a trail of little fawn hairs that led down to his nether region. Akira's mind supplied what was hidden there, a soft pink cock, nestled inside a pair of underwear, waiting to be sprung free.

A layer of string music joined the drum beat adding a pulsing and racing vibe. His blood was screaming, pulsating in his ears.

Mouth open, saliva pooling as his tongue lapped along the ridge of his lip. Akira was so turned on now that he couldn't function, all control was about to be lost. Long and luscious leaves sprouted out from the growing flower, encircling his heart. He pressed up close to the smaller man, his body almost towering over Ryo's. But he made sure that they didn't touch. It was his last act of defiance against the lust.

_I can't touch, if i touch Ryo, it will all be over._

Inhaling deeply through his nose he struggled to remain composed. 

Ryo remained still, his eyes locked with Akira's. Delighting in the visible reaction of lust consuming the man. He had created that, Akira was attracted to him. A small thought in his mind supplied that it wouldn't have happened but only for the music he had crafted. Similar to music that would force demons hiding in human flesh to transform, (He hadn't tested it out yet) revealing their secret demonic forms, he had created this one, to entice demons into acting out sexually, to give into their lustful desires and it was working.

With bated breath he waited for Akira's resolve to break, mentally encouraging him. He needed Akira to make the first move so that later he would believe it was all him, that he had willingly choose to kiss Ryo. That he had chosen to act out his desires alone.

Just ever so slightly Ryo rolled his shoulder, a causal movement that caused the small round shape of his pec to bob up in a hynotising roll. Like a pink cherry on a cupcake, spinning tantalisingly.

The pink flower petals deepened into a salacious red.

It was spell binding, drawing Akira in. Before he realised it, he had his face pressed flat to Ryo's sternum. His nose squashed to one side as he buried his face between the small bumps of his pecs, inhaling keenly the scent of Ryo mixed with water. A mixture of cotton and wild grass that had never been cut, a vibrant green paradise left untouched by humans.

_Oh shit, I've done it now._

He could feel Ryo tense up underneath him. Was he trying pull away from him in disgust and fear? Akira's human side lamented at the thought but his Devil side quickly took the reins. His hands sprung up from where they'd dented prints into the counter top and planted themselves on Ryos ass. Instantly gripping and melding into the soft doughy flesh. With his eyes closed, he listened for Ryo's reaction, determined to pull away if he needed to.

All he heard was a soft exclamition from Ryo, like a caught off whimper. Just as a lithe body arched beneath Akira's hands, pressing up into his chest.

The music swelled, lilting around them, tantalising and encouraging. 

It was enough to send his Devil side into overdrive, all earlier promises of pulling back, obliterated. With one manoeuvre he had Ryo hoisted up by his waist on to the counter top, and bodily pushed him back until he was entirely off the floor. In seconds Akira followed, pushing Ryo down flat onto the hard marble top beneath them.

The harsh push knocked the air from his lungs. Breathlessly Ryo looked up at Akira. A thread of fear resonated within his being, saying that the man, no the Devil on top of him was strong, scarily strong. That he could snap him in two if he wanted.

Stilling the thread, Ryo stared into those dark eyes. This was Akira, his friend, he could trust him not to hurt him. Too badly. With the thread quietened, in that moment he was filled with exaltation, his plan had worked. All that was left was to enjoy the fruits of his labour. His breath hitched in anticipation, wondering if this was he moment when Akira would kiss him. He dared not to say a word. Unsure what to say or whether he should verbally encourage Akira at all.

_Remember I need Akira to believe that it was all him, that he made the first move._

Another quiet gasp for air escaped from Ryo's lips. Akira was quite the heavy weight upon his chest. He wiggled just a little trying to alleviate it somewhat. The marble bit into his shoulder blades and tailbone. The swell of the music had changed into something harsher, a mix of shrill high notes intermittently piercing through.

In response Akira seized either side of Ryo's arms, keeping him pinned him flat to the counter top, squeezing the soft flesh of his arms with so much force. Allowing no wiggle room.

Was is it weird to admit that he liked it? Liked how the places where Akira's fingers embedded into his skin, stung. For so long he had been the strong one, protecting Akira, never afraid to do what must be done to protect him. Now with elated glee, it was his turn to feel small and prone beneath him.

The hot and heavy body on top of him, started to buck and grind, dry humping him. It was rough treatment, beginning to border on painful as Ryo's shoulders complained under the weight. Stuck between a marble counter top and Akira, neither was going to give way. And yet he could tell that Akira was holding back. That he was doing everything in his remaining control to stop his Devil side from taking over and just fucking him into the marble until it crumbled.

Between stifled moans and grunts, the words, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," spilled out in tandem from Akira with each grind. His hands released their grip on Ryo's arms, instead travelling up along his small shoulders and down to his pecs. There they pressed and gripped the flat mounds, covering them, fingers groping and fondling.

A stitch of irritation struck Ryo at that gesture. He was not a woman, he didn't have breasts, he wasn't her, he wasn't Miki. The idea that even now that Akira could be thinking about her, amplified that single stitch into an entire angry row of stitches slashing up along his mind. In a conscious decision, he reached up and grasped the fine hairs at the nape of Akira's neck, yanking him down. A violent joke of the many hugs they'd shared before. In a quiet but firm voice, he said, "Akira, it's okay."

Akira stopped his grinding and whined lowly. The sound like a dog in pain. His heart and the beat from the music beat in tandem, faster faster.

That's when Ryo felt the hot pitter-patter of fresh tears fall onto his bare chest. He sighed. Of course, Akira was crying. Always the crybaby. A weird smile bloomed on his face, one born from fondness and another feeling he wouldn't give a name to. Quickly he pushed the emotion away. Emotions and feelings weren't real. He flattened his lips into a fine line and gently cupped Akira's face, his thumbs brushing aside the flowing tears. Another sigh easily escaped with an exhale of his lungs.

Akira was beautiful.

Truly the only human worth saving on this wretched planet. His finger tips rose over the supple flesh of Akira's cheekbone. Now thanks to Ryo, Akira was powerful and strong enough to survive. Ryo threaded his fingers through Akira's tousled hair. When he wiped out all of humanity, Akira would remain and Ryo would be the only person he needed. His small blunt nails raked along Akira's scalp. The weak would die and he would forget that woman. Holding Akira's gaze in his, he repeated the words from earlier, his voice steady to convey that it was nothing but the truth, "It's alright."

Biting his lip, Akira's expression screwed up as tears continued to leak out, his shaggy hair bounced as he nodded resolutely.

Ryo marvelled at that desolate expression, drinking it all in. He would never forget anything that happened tonight. He licked his bottom lip, sucking it in, Akira looked so vulnerable but in startling contrast his cock was hard and pushing down into Ryo's thigh. Such an accurate example of Akira's humanity verses his Demonic side.

This was it, one last push and Akira's resolve would break. The threads of resilience holding him back, were snapping apart one by one.

Subtly Ryo wiggled his hips, just ever so slightly jostling Akira's erection.

Just like that, as though Ryo himself had held up a pair of scissors and severed the threads personally, the thin veil was torn apart. Like a starving hound released from deep within. Akira's form changed, transforming to the creation between Devil and human: Devilman. Dark tattoo marks slithered down his chest like entwining snakes. His fingers twitched, sounding an odd clacking sound as his nails grew long and sharp, transforming into claws as sharp as blades.

In seconds the claws effortlessly sliced through Ryo's white jeans and underwear, rendering them into ribbons. Leaving him bare, like meat shorn apart by the bloodied fangs of a predator.

The flower began to open, it's petals coquettishly revealing a tiny opening.

Without any warning, a hooked finger complete with jagged claw prodded at his entrance and pushed all the way inside him up to the knuckle.

Faster faster the drums demanded.

A tremor shook through Ryo at the sudden intrusion, his chest locked up and for a moment he couldn't even breathe. From that single clawed finger, he was pretty sure Akira had punctured him, that he was already bleeding inside. He didn't dare inhale, he could feel the pain right beneath the surface waiting to be released in a scream. Clamping his teeth on his tongue, he held it down. He wouldn't cry out, couldn't risk scaring Akira off.

Truth be told he'd never done this before, 'bottoming' he meant. He had been serious when he said he thought the way humans fucked was animalistic. However being of curious mind, he had been keen to experience the event, partaking in both women and men. None of them had been special, just rutting until his body found release and afterwards he had felt nothing for his sexual partner. That wouldn't be entirely correct, afterwards he always saw his partner as used, degraded, even filthy. Now he was stuck in that exact situation, about to be used by Akira and there was no turning back. A part of him couldn't deny that this was what he had wanted.

A second sharp finger punctured into him, like glass being forced through his flesh. The fingers moved around inside him, sending an undeniable stinging and burning sensation throughout him. A voice in the back of his mind, conceded that he understood now why those men that he had bedded ages ago had screeched for lube. But he had ignored them, taking them dry. He wondered if this was karma for his past actions.

Shrill notes, like the screech of a tin whistle started, mixed in with everything. The base, drum and the strings.

Like a stupid child mindlessly mashing the buttons in an elevator, Akira's fingers rammed in and out of Ryo, with absolutely no finesse. More fingers joined the intrusion, slashing at his inner walls, stretching him as blood trickled out down his inner thigh and ass cheeks.

To say he was in pain would be an understatement. All along he hadn't dared to move or even breathe until he couldn't take it anymore. His hands shot out gripping the sides of the countertop, his elbows connecting painfully with the marble as he tried to prop himself up into a sitting position. He needed to gain some control now!

Immediately Akira's free hand coiled around his ankle and yanked him with so much force, that his elbows were ripped out from under him and he hit his head with a crash on the marble. Dazedly he blinked between white stars as a flash of light blinded his vision.

*

When he opened his eyes, Akira towered over him. On top of him, crushing him. It became clear that he had lost some time, be it seconds or minutes. As instead of lying flat on his back, he was nearly bent up in half like a pretzel.

Large hands gripped the underside of his skinny thighs, holding his ass elevated in the air while only the top of his back touched the counter top.

Still fully dressed, Akira's black top strained along the bulging muscles, his neck had gotten thicker. Drool dripped past his lips, falling down with a splat onto Ryo's leg. His cock stood alert and pointed upwards like a dagger, it's one eye pinned to its destination, Ryo's hole.

Akira pressed forward.  
The music reached a crescendo.  
The flower strained under the intrusion, it's petals tearing.

Ryo craned his neck forward, dying to see this moment with his own eyes. He could feel Akira's thick blunt cockhead pressing against his ring. Loose and bloodied but most importantly ready to receive him. The hard counter top bit into Ryo's shoulder blades as he felt it, the intense heat from the other man's cock penetrating him.

In one firm stroke Akira fully sheathed himself inside.

A scream died hoarse inside Ryo's throat.  
The music faded out from his consciousness.  
The flower burst into a scatter of petals.

His eyes rolled inside his head. All at once nothing hurt anymore, almost like a switch had been flicked in his brain. His eyelid twitched, his mouth curving upward into a crazy smile.  Mentally he was aware that he he was being speared in two but physically he couldn't feel it, his brain having decided that it was to much to process.

Akira pulled his hips back, till the tip of his dick was visible. Then with a slam, he sheathed himself again.

The petals fell into a crumpled heap.

It was a wonder the counter top didn't shift from beneath them from the force force of each thrust.

Scrabbling for some sort of purchase or lifeline, Ryo flailed about. With each thrust, broken sounds were torn from his throat, he couldn't tell whether they were moans or screams. In the back of his mind he was pitifully aware enough to be embarrassed by the noises he was making. Yet he couldn't restrain himself, couldn't keep himself quiet. Desperately he rammed his own fist into his mouth, his teeth clenching into the soft flesh of his hand, drawing pricks of blood.

With a loud smack, Akira ripped the offending hand away and pinned it off to the side of the counter top. A growl tore from his throat, predatory and intimidating. He would not have Ryo silence himself, he wanted to hear every sound, every howl of pain.

Eye twitching, Ryo's teeth clicked together, the smile on his face now manic. He watched the man above him, pummel into him, sweat cascading down his skin that had started to change, turning grey just as wings sprouted upon his head. Ryo realised with a shudder that Akira's larger and more destructive devil form, Amon was taking over.

His ordeal was far from over and there was nothing he could do about it.

Completely transformed. Akira's dark black tail swished side to side behind him to the beat of his hips. His frame had gotten larger, heavier nearly crushing the fragile bones of Ryo beneath him.

A sense of madness began to take hold of Ryo and he heard laughter, someone laughing. He realised that it was himself, that he was laughing between choked screams. Squirming beneath Akira, he sunk his pathetic fingernails into the flesh of Akira's Devilman skin, unable to leave even a mark.

A pressure began to build inside him, and he belatedly realised that Akira's dick was swelling in size to match his demonic form. Swelling far too large. The massive intrusion inside him was close to rupturing his insides, tearing him apart. Squirming and grunting, he scrabbled and raked his nails at Akira's chest. The feeling of being so full was uncomfortable and his head twisted on his shoulders as if he could just swivel his way out but it was futile. Awkwardly he tried to look down at where Akira's cock disappeared inside him.

His mouth fell open though at the sight that greeted him. A large flesh like shape was moving up and down his lower abdomen. Akira's cock. It had swollen so large that Ryo could physically see it pummelling inside him from the outside. A feeling of utter awe overcame him and he manoeuvred his hands hesitantly to the moving lump. Just lightly touching the skin there, feeling it move and pulsate inside him, like an alien baby or snake trying to burst through his abdomen.

Finally the rhythmic pull and push of hips broke into an clumsy stutter and Ryo knew that the moment was coming. He hadn't planned for this bit. Would his small and fragile human body be able to take it? Just as he slammed his fist to Akira's chest, yelling for him to pull out. He felt it. Felt the tell tale twitch and spasm of Akira's cock as it spurted out hot seed inside, emptying everything into him.

Eyes rolling back into his head, Ryo swore he could feel his stomach expanding, ballooning up. The amount of seed being spilled into him was enough to inpregant an entire country. More than his little body could bare, the discomfort overtook him, his ribcage seizing up as his voice died in his throat, his tongue clenched beneath his teeth, drawing blood.

With a slick sound Akira pulled out.

Not daring to move, Ryo held every muscle in his body tense, terrified to move, terrified that pain was about to wrack throughout his body.

Unseen, the petals withered and died.

Without any grace or glory, the mess of seed spilled out with a sloppy slush sound. There was so much of it that it coated his thighs and drenched his behind, as it dribbled all over the marble counter top, slicking up everything and mingling with his blood.

Panting loudly on top of him Akira moaned in pleasure, his shoulders rolling sensually as his body morphed back to his human form. Bodily he flopped down on top of Ryo. Seemingly forgetting that the other man was underneath him.

Then there was just this moment of silence. Where no one dared to breath. In the background the earth continued to spin, the stars exploded and died a billion light years away in the sky above them. Unaware as to what had just occurred.

Blinking heavily, a glazed look slipped past Akira's eyes. He remained on top of Ryo but the heavy weight had lessened. His head hung there, his hair drench with sweat and already curling at the ends.

Unable to do anything except exist, Ryo just watched, transfixed as a range of emotions flitted over Akira's face. He always was an open book. The remnants of pleasure, calmed into confusion, his eyes blinking wide, taking in the mess of blood and seed coating his dearest friend still beneath him. Then a look of pure horror engulfed his features as he realised just what he had done.

A flare of panic erupted in Akira's eyes as he bodily threw himself off the counter top, crashing onto the floor below, the cupboard doors banging with a loud startling clatter like gunshots.

Still lying there, Ryo lowered his legs, till the pads of his feet touched the marble top. His legs were spread wide, the evidence of the intercourse still bleeding out from between his thighs. He tilted his head, his eyes distantly watching Akira, taking in his reaction. All the while Ryo bore no expression, truthfully he had become lost. The plan had worked too well. It wasn't supposed to go like this. He realised he had started to shake as his body struggled to process the aftermath.

Large tears welled up in Akira's dark eyes, threatening to spill over. His hands fisted tightly in his hair and Ryo knew that Akira was mentally breaking down. His eyes roved in a panic at the form of his friend, lying prone and broken on the counter. With shaking steps, he turned away, his back facing Ryo. His hands gripped the skin of his face, nails digging in leaving red marks as muffled screams tried to pierce through clenched teeth. Eventually his teeth parted as a blood curdling scream erupted forth, filled with pain, agony and self loathing.

At the sound of wretched scream, the door to Ryo's apartment unlocked and swung open. Psycho Jenny stiffly walked in and stopped dead at the scene before her. Yet her plastic face didn't move although minutely and unnoticeablly to the naked eye her teeth clenched together, the bones threatening to shatter. Still she didn't comment at what she saw.

Instantly Akira turned a sickly shade of white as a horrified squeak escaped his mouth. Hurriedly like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar, he stuffed his dick back into his jeans, yanking the zipper up. Then he was running, barrelling past Jenny and out through the open door.

Just like that he was gone. Without a word.

For a minute, Ryo just stared at the door, the space in which Akira had fled. None of this had gone according to his plan, it wasn't supposed to end like this. He wasn't supposed to be lying here, feeling used.

He allowed just a single moment to compose himself, he couldn't allow Pyscho Jenny to know that she had been right when she had advised against his plan. He had to act like everything had gone accordingly. Inhaling deeply, he sucked in all his strength and threw his head back and forced a maniac laugh to bubble out. Trying his utmost to hide his pain, he rolled onto his side, as if to proudly show off his naked body. Like he could just pretend that what had happened here had been enjoyable, like he had wanted it.

Loosely he pressed his hand over his eyes, he couldn't hide the pain in them. His lips curved upward as he faked a smile, and in the same breath he ordered Jenny to prepare him a hot bath. Inside his head, his mind repeated the mantra, _It's alright, it's alright, it's alright, this is what I wanted._

With trembling arms he hoisted himself off the counter top and onto unsteady feet. A wave of nausea slithered down his throat as a disgusting second wave of seed oozed out from inside him. 

Jenny said nothing. She did however clap her hands once, ending the music.

He had completely forgotten it was still playing. The noise had been completely masked by the tundra of thoughts in his mind.

*  
Soaking in the hot bath water, the steam rose coating the entire room in a soft sheen, all the mirrors had fogged up, concealing any reflections. Like being safely hidden away inside a warm bubble. Ignoring the pain throbbing from his lower half, he thought to himself. Reliving the ordeal over and over again. His hands tightened around his knees, pulling them closer to his chest as the water swished along with the movement.

Outside his bubble, Psycho Jenny cleaned away any remaining trace of the incident in the kitchen.

Where had it all gone wrong? It wasn't supposed to be like that. He had just wanted, Akira to look at him, the way he looked at her. 

_Like he wanted him._

Ryo stilled, blinking tiredly. He brought his hands up, draping water over his hair. He ignored the tremble in his hands, just allowing the water to cascade over him and imagined it was washing everything away. 

His thoughts returned to Akira, recalling the devastating scream he had released, the agony in his eyes at Ryo's abused form.

A wracked breath pushed its way through his chest as he slammed his fist into the water. It splashed back with as much force, overflowing from the tub.

  
*

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a calamity, the world carries on.  
> And so must we.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably contains spelling/grammar errors but as I've no beta, please forgive me.
> 
> Update is late. Why? Well the past couple months, I've been suffering with constant headaches and sensitivity to light. It makes working on my laptop really difficult. Makes a lot of things difficult. :( I've been to see both a doctor and an optician. Fingers crossed we can find the solution and fix my head soon.

Walking out from the university building; messenger bag wrapped around one shoulder, Ryo cradled a wad of papers under his arm. He held up the other, shielding his eyes from the light. The sun was high and bearing down contemptuously, reflecting off his white outfit. Around him university students chattered, moving around like bugs on the pavement. Faces buried in books or conjoined in noisy groups, discussing their classes or telling stories of obscene and depraved exploits.  
  
He refrained from rolling his eyes. The usual bullshit then. Minutely he shook his head. Humans had no morals... drinking, drugs and fornicating. Scum, really.   
  
Under the shadow of his hand, he spied his car parked in the lecturer’s spot. Standing faithfully at its side was Psycho Jenny. Patiently waiting to usher him home. He smiled but it was more a grimace than anything. At least he could trust Jenny to always be there for him, she wouldn't run out. His fingers clenched around the papers. Today was the third day and… nothing. Not a phone call, text or _fuck_ even a note from Akira. Nothing! It infuriated him and further pushed the fact that he really had been used for sex. Yes, he had instigated it with the music but he had thought that Akira at least cared about him. Enough to stay afterward and not flee like a coward.   
  
The stoic trees that dotted the campus, wavered in the rigid hot breeze, a couple leaves falling free. Jenny stood, her face impassive, watching her master. His face looked stiff, his smile fake. He'd been in a terrible mood the past three days. The situation with Akira had upset him, not that he would admit it.   
  
Reaching the car, Ryo greeted Psycho Jenny. The tirade in his mind finishing on the thought that at least he had achieved one objective. He had managed to claim Akira's virginity. _Not her. Not Miki Makimura._   
  
As if by just thinking her name caused her to appear; Miki Makimura was suddenly in the car park. Like some kind of she-devil, sprinting over to them.   
  
His hand left the door handle and subtly he swallowed. He didn't speak, his eyes taking in every little detail about her. Small in stature, yet wiry. Dressed in little shorts and thigh highs, a simple loose t-shirt covering her top half. He could see in her revealed calves that she was physically very fit and lean with muscle. Fixing his gaze to her face, he took in the details of her unusual green eyes. She was pretty... He could admit that much, begrudgingly at least. Tiny little freckles dotted around the lower lids of her eyes. Very pretty. He felt himself frown.   
  
All the while, he'd been examining her, Miki had been talking frantically. Yet he was only aware that her lips were moving, as he was ignoring her blathering. Until she lunged forward and gripped his forearm.   
  
He instantly jumped back, as though electrocuted.

Jenny was by his side in an instant, her expression blank but murderous behind the eyes.  
  
Miki had his attention now, so he listened.   
  
Between panting breaths -it was clear she had run here- she spoke, "Please, you're Ryo? Akira's friend?"   
  
Disdain at hearing her use his name so casually irritated him and tugged his lips into a thin sharp line. Still he couldn't be bothered to correct her. The less information she knew about him the better. So he simply replied with, "Yes."   
  
Her eyes widened at his disinterested tone, but she pursued. "Akira has," She seemed to struggle with her words, trying to keep her emotions steady. "Akira's missing. He hasn't come home in three days!"   
  
Ryo blinked at this new information. So Akira wasn't hiding out at home. Without really thinking he hooked his hand on the car door handle.   
  
"Wait!" Miki darted closer to him, as if to block his way into the car.   
  
He paused, his hand still on the handle.   
  
Impulsively she slapped her hand on the car, “He just left in the middle of the night," She pressed forward up into his personal space, "Right before," She pinched her lips together in determination and put on her best intimidating expression, "He said he was going to see you."   
  
Ryo inhaled deeply. Closing his eyes he resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Instead he pulled open his car door and elegantly swung himself into the driver's seat. He left the door open, staring resolutely ahead, his hands tightening their grip on the steering wheel, "Get in."

  
  
*

  
The streamlined scape of the city quickly faded out. Breaking into derelict buildings, that awkwardly lined the streets like rows of crooked teeth. The further out they travelled, -racing along in Ryo's car- the worse the scenery got. An hour passed in uncomfortable silence only made bearable by the smooth purr of the engine. Above them the sky disappeared and the clouds bled out into a bruised colour of purple and black. A storm was coming.   
  
Miki dug her fingernails into her thigh, nerves eating away at her. Why would Akira have come out this far, to such a dodgy area? Around them, buildings stood desolate, the streets dusty but filled with vagrants. Homeless people were gathered around a barrel, hot red flames burning inside, in a vain attempt to keep warm.

In a quiet voice Miki voiced her fears.

Ryo side eyed her briefly noting her concern, but turned his gaze back to the road, keeping his tone passive. "I'm co-ordinating the GPS signals from Akira's mobile phone and motorcycle. He gestured with an elegant finger to the screen lit up in orange lights on the car’s dashboard. A map made of neon lights, glowed back, two orange dots blinking just a ways apart from each other.  
  
Miki analysed it, her finger hovering over the first dot. "This is his motorcycle," She checked the line the dot rested on. "It looks like he left it in a back alley." She moved her finger, tracing the lights, "The second one, seems to be somewhere along a bridge not far from the alley." Her stomach sunk, "Why is he at a bridge... he isn't going to do something stupid is he?" Her eyes were wide, a hint of hysteria playing at the edge of her voice.   
  
Not confirming or denying her fears, Ryo simply hummed a response and tried to remain calm. Even so he pressed his foot down harder on the gas, increasing the speed. The need to find Akira right this instant, increasing. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Akira  might endanger or hurt himself. He'd been foolish to disregard that possible outcome. He should have known; Akira was a bleeding heart after all!

Reaching a more confined area, Ryo reluctantly decreased the speed of his car to a crawl. Homeless vagrants loitering the narrow street resentfully eyed his car; furious that some wealthy bastard had dared to drive through their slum. One particular vagrant lunged forward tossing a half empty bottle at the car. It smashed on the windshield, the glass bottle shattering, alcohol sloshing free.

The car skidded for a moment, Ryo's visibility temporarily obscured. Next to him, Miki screamed, her arms coming up to cover her head. A smirk crept up Ryo's cheek. He like hearing her scream.

Regaining control of the car, he flipped on the window wipers, flicking away the mess of glass and alcohol.

"Calm down. This car has bulletproof windows." His tone sounded incredibly smug with that statement.

Picking up the pace he sped the car away. Honestly though, he would have loved to slammed the brakes, got out and personally murdered every single one of those filthy vagrants. He especially wanted to slit the throat of the one who threw the bottle. But, he mentally lamented, time was of the essence, he needed to find Akira. The vermin could wait till another day.

During all this, Psycho Jenny remained a quiet and emotionless presence in the back seat. If it weren’t for the fact that occasionally her eyes would seek Ryo's in the wing mirror. Miki would have thought her a statue or something not human. Unsettled by the secretary’s intense and frozen appearance, Miki refrained from looking into the backseat. There was something unnerving about the other woman. Several times Miki swore she felt cold puffs on air on the back of her neck, as though the secretary -unbeknownst to her- had coiled up right behind her like a blood sucking leech.  
  
The car skidded to a halt, the tires screeching and burning rubber as the car swerved around from a vertical position to a horizontal, slotting neatly into a parking slot along the footpath.

The sound of car doors simultaneously opening and slamming shut sounded as the the three made their way.

The area was desolate as though even the vagrants didn't dare go near it. A chill nipped at Ryo's exposed skin. This far out from the city, it was cold as though the sun itself had forgotten the bleak and broken area. Instantly Jenny appeared behind him and professionally affixed a large white puffer coat over his shoulders. He finished the rest, slotting his arms in, while nodding a silent thanks to her.  
  
Her breath ghosting out in little clouds from her mouth, Miki watched the odd exchange. _What was this woman to Ryo?_ He'd referred to her as his secretary but the way she’d behaved just now, was more like a mother than anything.

Wrapping her bare arms firmly around her chest, Miki wished she had thought to bring a coat with her. She tried her best to hide her shivering, not wanting to let the others know. But even when her teeth traitorously chattered, the secretary did nothing. She didn't miraculously spring out a second coat nor did Ryo offer his. _Chivalry really was dead._

The group made their way to the bridge. It’s large iron bars rose up angrily to the sky. Old in design and conceptually western. With lack of use and care, the bolts and fixtures had rusted and bled out a hideous copper colour. 

The dull rusted metal thumped like an old drum under their footsteps. Below them, the audible roar and rush of the river was audible. It smelt too, that smell when water had gone bad, filled with algae and fungi. Ryo led the way, his eyes scoping out each and every corner of the bridge. It was massive, -having originally been built to allow cars to cross the river- dwarfing tiny pedestrians like themselves within a giant toothy trap. Vapour from the murky river, rose up and swamped the area in a found smelling mist, making it hard to see. 

Like a compass, pointing him to his heart's desire, he held his tablet in his hand. The little orange dot blinked teasingly, their own white dot gradually getting closer. Almost there. Soon he would see Akira for the first time after _that_ . His heart rate increased a little in anticipation. He had no idea how this was going to play out. Nor was he even sure why he had brought the human girl with him either. He had rationalised it in his head that since Akira had run away; that it was because he either blamed himself or Ryo. If the latter was the case then it stood to reason that Akira most likely wouldn’t want to see him, but -his guts twisted in pain at the thought- maybe he would be happy to see her. Maybe Miki could convince him to return home.

  
  
*

  
They walked for what felt like ages, the mist enclosing around them, entrapping them in a world that solely existed of the bridge. Like walking a desolate pathway through purgatory, unsure if they were ever going to arrive at their destination.   
  
And then finally when all hope had seemed lost and an hour had been spent on foot, they saw him. The dark silhouette of a young man, standing on the railing’s edge of the bridge. The group stopped in their tracks, taking in the slouched back of that figure.

Perilously Akira stood, way up along the ridge of the bridge’s edge. It had been designed in such a way to prevent humans climbing over it to jump to their death’s in the river below. Of course Akira was no ordinary human. His hands loosely held two metal bars behind him as the mist flowed around like an inviting veil. He stared out unseeing into the dark roar of the water, his hair trickling in the breeze like dark ink. 

  
Without waiting to devise a plan or safe form of action, Miki screamed. " **_AKIRA!_ ** " The sound shrill and piercingly full of pure terror.   
  
The figure high up above them, jolted at the noise, almost slipping from the ridge. Precariously he turned, looking down at the group.   
  
Swallowing Ryo looked up at him, it was hard to make out his features in the lack of light but he knew it was him. "Akira," He whispered the name under his breath. His fist clenched and unclenched. He didn't know what to do or say in this moment. He had wracked his brain over it for the past three days. Did he apologise? Pin the blame on Akira? Force him to take responsibility? It was all so uncertain, he didn't have a plan to follow and that made him nervous.   
  
"Miki?" Akira's voice called back in complete surprise. Seconds later, he jumped, and landed with a large thunk sound on the metal grating, just a bit away from the group.   
  
Stumbling back, Miki felt her legs tremble and her mind gape. What? How had Akira just jumped that massive height like it was nothing?   
  
Then the silhouette was approaching her fast and in seconds Akira was there, in front of her. His hands gripped the sides of her shoulders, shaking her. "What are you doing here!?" He looked around frantically, his hair whipping, "It's dangerous out here!"   
  
"I came to find you!" She yelled back, it was clear she was holding back tears. She pressed forward, her fists lightly pummelling his chest, "You idiot, what were you thinking? You can't just run away!" She shouted at him.   
  
Akira took the beating, sighing a fond smile on his face as his eyes watered up. Then there was an awkward moment where Miki pressed forward in an attempt to hug him but he immediately pushed her away.   
  
"A-Akira?" She called out, confused and hurt at the reaction.   
  
Folding his arms around his chest, Akira panted heavily, as though panicked. Deep down, he was terrified, he couldn’t trust himself. What if he hurt Miki too? No it was better to avoid close contact.   
  
"Akira." Ryo finally spoke, his voice cutting through the mist. He kept it firm like steel, betraying no emotion.   
  
Akira's eyes widened in horror as his mouth dropped, a broken gasp escaped as he barely managed to say, "Ryo?"   
  
Ryo pressed forward, slicing through the mist, his white coat illuminating him in the lack of light.

Psycho Jenny stood just behind him like a guard.  
  
A blather of nonsensical words began to simper out from Miki's mouth; about where Akira had been, about what had he been thinking?! But neither man was paying any attention. Their eyes firmly glued to each other. There was so much being said in that shared look and yet nothing at all being spoken. The odd stare continued for a minute or so, with Miki pulling on Akira's jacket, demanding he come back home with her.   
  
At that statement, Ryo interrupted her. He simply held his arms out in an open gesture, "Come Akira."   
  
There was a moment, where nothing happened and Ryo was convinced his heart had stopped beating but then Akira, easily slipped out from Miki's grip. He gratefully patted her shoulder and walked away and over to Ryo. Standing just a foot in front of him.

"We need to talk," Ryo said quietly so that only Akira could hear him. 

Akira nodded. He looked shell shocked, "What about-?"  
  
Ryo cut him off, making a quick gesture with his arm, "Jenny will take her home."   
  
He nodded, his lips scrunching together. Quickly Akira turned on his feet to face Miki, being so careful not to touch her. Speaking in a gentle caring manner he said, "Ryo’s secretary will take you home."   
  
"What? But Akira you're coming too!" She ordered.   
  
He smiled, and it was so rueful and so sad that it silenced Miki instantly. They shared a final goodbye, a simple exchange of words and a promise that the other would be fine. With that, Psycho Jenny was behind the wheel, and a concerned Miki reluctantly sat in the passenger seat as it sped away, the soft purr from the engine still audible in the distance.   
  
Beneath them the river roared and crashed agaisnt the metal spikes of the bridge. Ryo turned and made his way to the bridge, keeping his hands in his pockets, he peered through the deftly fenced bars down at the rushing water below. Even now, when time felt so still for him, things were continuing to move. The world would continue to exist and spin with or without them. In that way, all their problems were so small and insignificant.   
  
Cautiously Akira followed and stood just an arms length away, staring up at the bruised sky, searching for a glimpse of the moon but finding none. He didn't know where to begin or what to even say. The word 'sorry' just didn't seem strong enough. Guilt was eating at him from inside. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the same image over and over again. Ryo lying limp and used upon the counter top. He shuddered again at the visible memory, remembering the slick of mess between his legs. He had done that, to his best friend. _What kind of monster was he?_ But the worst bit, the fact that he couldn't fight back was that he had enjoyed every last second of the act. Giving into the lust had been heavenly, like a man escaping prison finally tasting sweet freedom. He had been so high in that moment, just following his instincts, not holding back anything whatsoever.   
  
"Ryo... I'm." He struggled with the words, unable to phrase his feelings, "I'm..." What could he say, how did he make this right? _I'm so sorry,_ just didn't cut it.   
  
At the mention of his name, Ryo turned to face him and there was an intense moment, where the two just stared. The river rushing and crashing below. Ryo waited, unsure as to what words would leave Akira's mouth. Accusations? A confrontation or an apology? Without blinking, Ryo continued to stare.   
  
Akira swallowed, those piercing blue eyes were so unnerving, as though travelling right through to his soul. What did they see... filth? Sin, like lust and betrayal combined into a cancerous mass with the evil act of harming another, _his own friend!_  His eyes watered up at those thoughts. He was dirty, sinful, more devil than man. He-   
  
His mental tirade of tears was cut off when Ryo just pressed forward and wrapped one arm around his neck, his fingers coming to rest in the nape of his hair.   
  
Akira exclaimed, completely taken aback. Ryo should be hitting him, screaming at for for what he did. Not hugging him.   
  
Ryo's other arm came up and gently rested along Akira's shoulder.   
  
A tremble started in Akira's body, that hug was enough. Words weren't needed. Ryo didn't hate him. A muffled sob escaped past his clenched lips and his arms flew up, gripping Ryo's upper back, fisting in the puffy material of his coat.

"I'm so sorry!" He screeched, his voice broken and torn.

Pulling back, just enough so that he could smile at Akira, Ryo watch the flowing teardrops track lines down his face. Soothingly he combed his fingers through Akira's hair. It felt gritty, greasy and little knots kept catching his nails. Blinking he examined Akira, noting the dirt marks smeared across his face. It was clear he'd been living rough the past three days.  
  
"Come back with me," Ryo said, his voice a soft whisper yet almost imploring.   
  
Akira started at that, his eyes widening in alarm and his body tensing under Ryo's. There was such an intense fear in his eyes as he tried to pull away but Ryo held steadfast. Akira huffed air out through his nose, the tears had stopped flowing and his eyelashes were clumped together with huge tear drops.   
  
_Stunning_ , Ryo thought. He reached up with his free hand, to touch the dew like beads. Like tiny gems held on a bed of black silk.   
  
Immediately like lightning Akira snapped into action, his hand locked around Ryo's wrist, gripping so tightly. "Don't you get it, Ryo!" His grip tightened, cutting off the blood to Ryo's hand, "I can't go back, ever! I'll only end up-"

"Hurting me?" Ryo finished in a dry amused tone. He tilted his head to the side, without blinking once. He removed his free hand from Akira's nape, and unzipped his white coat. With a dramatic swish he unfurled the fabric, revealing a large deadly gun concealed beneath.  
  
"Don't underestimate me, Akira." He dropped the fabric, concealing the gun once more. He pushed forward right into Akira's space, until their foreheads were almost touching. The wrist that Akira held had bunched up into a fist, threatening to pull out from his grip. Ryo continued, his voice firm, mildly threatening, "I know what happened that night."   
  
Akira made a small choking noise at that, being so bluntly reminded of the incident, that had plagued him for three days. Wondering how, just how Ryo could just easily say the words like it was nothing.   
  
Seeing Akira slip into another mental tirade, Ryo did the only rational thing, he pressed his forehead to his, and just closed his eyes. Feeling Akira's pulse race from their touching skin, reveling in how his breath stuttered and puffed onto Ryo's face. He opened one eye, to see that Akira had closed both of his and his lips were screwed up and wiggling like a worm, unsure as what to say. So Ryo made it easy for him.   
  
"And yet, I'm still here Akira. I'm still by your side." His hand fisted in Akira's hair, "Akira I'm a man, I can take anything you throw at me, in fact I'll accept it all with open arms." His voice was intense and imploring, unyielding and hard like diamond.

The sheer conviction in Ryo’s statement blasted through Akira, knocking his breath away.

 

*  
  
They rode back to Ryo's place after that on Akira’s motorcycle. Ryo seated on the back, his arms wrapped firmly, possessively around his middle. Above them, the cloud mass parted, a sliver of the moon glimpsing through, allowing just a little light to shine down upon them. Ryo leaned forward, pressing his face, into Akira's back, the fabric of his jacket, rough and abrasive. He smiled, his thin lips curved and wicked.

  
  
*   
The suite was lowly lit by just a few lamps, casting a warm glow around the room, nothing too harsh or bright. Beyond the glass windows, the technicolored lights of the city spun and buzzed. Jenny had returned sometime before them and currently stood patiently in the dark corner of the suite, like a dark shadow. Only noticeable if you were to actively search for her.   
  
Hesitantly Akira stood at the closed door, his back pressed to it, a reminder that the exit was right behind him. If he needed to, he could run any second.   
  
Ryo hovered in the middle of the suite, the low lamp light bathing him in an ethereal glow. He watched how Akira held himself small and almost crumpled up like paper. He had become so afraid of himself. And that was Ryo's fault; he had broken him.

Biting his bottom lip, Ryo realised that this would prove to be a issue; something he would have to help Akira overcome. Right before they had left on the motorcycle, he had managed to convince Akira to stay with him for the next couple days. (Preferably forever, but that would take time. Baby steps.) His reasoning had been, that he (Ryo) was strong enough to endure whatever Akira might throw his way but if Akira were to lose control back at his home. Could he honestly say the same for Miki? Ryo had hidden his triumphant smile as he saw the horror at the mental image play inside Akira's mind. Akira had been forced to accept that Ryo was right; Miki would never survive an incident like that.

  
And so deciding to move things along and help him settle in and get past the nerves, Ryo called, "I'll have Jenny run you a bath."

  
Trying to act normal, Akira merely nodded and followed the secretary into the bathroom.

  
  
*   
Less than an hour had passed and it had been blissful in the tub. The hot water had soothed his aching muscles and washed away the grime and dirt from his skin and hair.

Leaving the tub with a towel wrapped around his waist, he discovered fresh clothing waiting for him. They were his clothes, just not the ones he'd been wearing. No a different set. Vaguely he remembered Ryo offering (Psycho Jenny would be the one to actually do it though) to wash his clothes from a previous time. They'd been stained with demon and human blood. He gripped the black shirt in his hands, and brought the fabric up to his face, inhaling. _Mhm_ , it smelt faintly like Ryo, a fresh cotton smell. He surmised that it had been washed a while back and hung up along with Ryo's clothes. He dressed quickly, smelling Ryo’s scent all over his body. He liked it.

  
At the sound of Akira leaving the bathroom; Ryo smiled up fondly at him from his spot on the settee, laptop in his lap.

In the background Psycho Jenny prepared refreshments. 

Deciding to give Akira some space, Ryo returned his gaze to his laptop, pretending to focus on his work. 

After what felt like a long while, Akira carefully walked over, deliberately keeping his footsteps loud to let Ryo know he was approaching. 

Inwardly Ryo smirked. Akira thought he was the cat approaching a wary bird when really it was the opposite.   
  
When Ryo made no protest or sudden movements. Akira carefully lowered himself down onto the other side of the settee. It was incredibly daunting, to be here, in this suite. Behaving as though nothing had happened. He needed to talk about it, discuss it with Ryo. There was so much left unsaid. What had happened hadn't been right. He couldn't just let Ryo sweep it under the rug.   
  
Psycho Jenny set a tray down on the tea table in front of them, filled with two light drinks of warm tea and light snacks.   
  
_Right they weren't alone_ . He didn't want to talk about such a thing with the secretary present. Just then as he eyed the food, his gazed pinned to one particularly meaty looking sandwich. His stomach growled loudly and he blushed bright red. He hadn't eaten in the past couple days. His guilt and shame had prevented him from doing so.   
  
Ryo looked up from his laptop, eyeing Akira. Setting the machine aside, he lifted a tea cup delicately in his hand, the little saucer balanced underneath with the other. He smiled at Akira; just a little twitch of his lips.   
  
Akira stared at him in wonder. Just how could he be so okay and comfortable with this? Having the man who had basically, r-r-ra... he mentally tripped over the word, unable to even think it. After a moment he managed to settle with _assaulted_ instead. But still, how was Ryo able to cope with his attacker sat next to him?   
  
"Akira eat." Ryo ordered simply, taking a long draft of his tea.   
  
And so Akira did.

  
  
*

  
That night he slept on the settee. Jenny had plied him with spare cushions and a blanket to comfort him. Yet it was so warm in the suite that he had kicked the blanket off and lay sprawled out on the settee with an arm resting across his forehead. Unmoving, he stared out at the lively cityscape. Watching the lights flicker in windows of distant skyscrapers. Seeing trails of light dash across the motorways. Those lights could only be from cars speeding through the city, too small to be seen by the naked eye apart from the ribbons of light.

He rolled onto his side knocking a cushion off the settee. It landed with a soft 'thumpfh' sound. Reaching an arm over he lightly touched the soft material, just letting his fingers brush along. It was such a thin material. If he were to transform now, his claws would slice through it in an instant. He pulled his hand away, bringing it back to his chest, clenching and unclenching his fist, digging his blunt human nails into his palm. In his mind a flash of that night replayed. The white ribbons of Ryo's torn trousers, shredding under his vicious claws. How they had splayed out like flowing strings of light, fluttering around Ryo's bare pale thighs. 

Akira swallowed, his cheeks darkening. He knew exactly what he was looking at now in his mind, Ryo's bare crotch. _He hadn't been wearing underwear._ The thought was enticing enough to instantly send a prick of interest to his dick. He groaned, shuffling on the settee, his half chub rubbing through the fabric of his jeans. Mentally he berated himself, what was he doing fantasizing about Ryo? He'd made himself promise that he wouldn't hurt him again like that. And yet his hand traitorously slipped down to his crotch, palming through the fabric of his jeans. He let a pleased moan slip through his lips in the quiet of the suite. Immediately he bit his lip, eyes glancing around the room, afraid that Ryo had heard. He waited for a sound or noise to indicate someone else was awake but nothing. By now his dick was straining against his clothing. He licked his lip. He never could hold back from his desires. Peering over his shoulder, he made his way to the bathroom, locking the door behind him.   
  
Leaning on the cistern of the toilet, his cock was fat and thick in his warm palm. Up and down, he pumped it, huffing out pleased moans between his lips. In his mind he played the imagery of Ryo pinned beneath him with shredded clothes. His porcelain skin all on show. How tight and hot his body had felt clamped around his dick. He tightened his fist, imaging it was Ryo. He was coming, reaching the limit. He aimed his dick at the toilet bowl, shooting his load inside, "R-Ryo." He moaned out loud, too lost in the bliss of release to care whether anyone heard him.   
  
Panting he leaned his weight on the cistern, collecting himself. He flushed the mess away, and stuffed his dick back into his pants. Ashamed, he tiptoed back in the dark to the settee. Gathering up the blanket and sliding underneath it as though he could hide from what he had done. He lay there, staring at the ceiling as guilt ate at him. He'd just jacked off to the memory of the time he assaulted Ryo. He brought a hand up, gripping his face, digging his hands into his skin.  _What the fuck was wrong with him?_   
  
Around the corner of the room, Ryo stood hidden just from sight. He'd heard Akira moving around and decided maybe a late morning chat would help him sleep. He'd stopped and hid when he'd seen Akira enter the bathroom with a blatant erection.   
  
Quietly he had pressed himself up to the door, just listening to Akira trying to stifle his moans and pants. He'd gripped the door handle, wondering if he should burst in on the act, maybe even help. But he'd refrained, knowing it was too soon after what had happened. And then he'd heard it. Akira calling his name as he met his release. A wave of euphoria had shuddered through Ryo at hearing his name being spoken amid ecstasy. Skillfully he had quietly slipped away as Akira had shamefully shuffled back to the settee.

Back in his own room, he settled himself upon his bed. A huge delighted smile engulfed his face and made his blue eyes dance in the dark, the red sparkle of the cityscape like explosions within his irises. Things were finally going to plan.

  
  
***   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously my eyes and head ache from looking at this screen.  
> Please leave a little comment, to make this suffering all worth while.  
> Peace and love <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken some creative liberties with the layout of the Makimura's house. ;)
> 
> A huge thank you to everyone who left a comment and wished me well concerning my health problems.  
> I'm doing better <3

*

  
Nearly a week passed and in that time something had grown between the two young men. An almost kind of understanding or acceptance. They settled into a routine, nearly like that of a domestic couple. Akira went to school in the mornings while Ryo attended the university. In the evenings, Psycho Jenny prepared Akira meals (Akira still hadn't managed to persuade Ryo to eat real food.) At night they communed together on the settee, the night sky dark beyond the glass behind them as the city life twinkled neon.

Chewing a pen, Akira pretended to study his homework. Ryo's nimble fingers professionally clacked away on the keyboard. It had become comfortable between them, an easy existence together and yet at the same time, what had occurred hung heavily over them. Like an invisible rain cloud, the memory of the assault festered, growing darker, thicker and heavier. Threatening to erupt and rain down on their sham of a parade.

Later that night, Akira slept, or at least he tried to. The material of the settee pressed coolly to his cheek, the cushion tossed aside and the blanket draped around his ankles. All the while his filthy brain whispered in a sickening sweet voice; that Ryo was lying spread out in that big white bed of his, the headboard perfect for fucking into a wall. He groaned, his hands creeping down the plains of his stomach heading for his crotch. While his mind imagined Ryo spread on all fours onto the bed, completely naked with his back arched like a slut, showing off that cute ass of his. Practically begging for Akira to penetrate his hole. The imaginary  _ slap slap _ sounds matching up with the  _ thwacks _ of the headboard.  _ Fuck. _ Akira curled his lip, sucking it, feeling himself growing aroused. 

He sighed, it was such a struggle to control these urges. He was thankful though that nothing like that one awful night had happened again. Just thinking about it killed his boner, his gut sinking like someone had just punched him. Lips pulling tight, he frowned. They hadn't talked about it, hadn't even skirted around the subject. The only tell tale sign that it was even still an issue was that neither of them would step foot in the kitchen area. They both completely avoided the counter top. Heck, he couldn't even look at it without reliving the scene in his mind. Limply Akira thumped the settee with his fist. He just didn't understand how Ryo could act like nothing happened! When it was eating him up inside!   
  
The screen on his mobile phone lit up. He glanced at it, his thumb prodding the screen. Another message from Miki. He’d called her the first day, explaining that he would stay with Ryo for a while. Ryo was right; he couldn’t go home. There was no way Miki couldn't handle an assault like that. He sniffed, feeling tears well in his eyes. For her safety, to keep her safe, he had to stay away.   
  
The digital clock on the screen flipped from 00:00 to 00:01.  After midnight. It was officially a week. A week without talking about _ it _ . This was stupid. He rose up from the settee, the blanket slinking off him, pooling into a little pile. Barefoot he quietly treaded to Ryo's room, pausing in the doorway. It was open. Everything was so open about this suite... nowhere to hide. Keeping one hand on his hip, the other holding the door jamb, he peered in. 

Nestled in the centre of the bed was a small mound under a vast white sea of a duvet. So small and innocent: his friend Ryo.

Slowly Akira inhaled, trying to gain some confidence,  _ he could do this. _

The mound in the bed shifted just a little. The sound of Ryo breathing soft and even, audible underneath the rustle of the duvet like waves lolling in dark.

_ Shit no he couldn't.  _ He made to turn on his heel, to rush back to the settee. But before he could even take a step, Ryo's voice called out to him, "Akira?" It was quiet, not sleep laden, almost as if he’d been lying awake the entire time.

He froze on the spot, an 'oh shit' expression caught on his face.   
  
The mound in the bed moved, and Ryo shifted up into a sitting position, the duvet falling away like a single rush of water. He leaned back on the white cushion resting along the headboard. In the dark room, the city scape large and wide shaded the room in a low pentatonic glow. Ever electronic, extrinsic and unnatural. As if Ryo was omniscient or a mind reader, he seemed to know that it was time to discuss the problem. "Come here Akira." His voice sounded so quiet in the dark that Akira swore he hadn't spoken. 

Gritting his lip, worrying it. It was now or never. Slowly Akira shuffled into the room, making his way over to the bed. 

  
Gently Ryo patted the vacant spot right next to him. The bed was large, large enough to fit three maybe even four full grown men.   
  
Swallowing, Akira subtly shook his head. He didn't trust himself to get into bed with Ryo, didn't trust his Devil side not to take over at such a scenario, especially after he'd just fantasied about it. A new fantasy image of Ryo on his knees, his hands desperately gripping the top of the headboard as Akira fucked into him from behind, popped into his mind. Akira felt his cheeks darken and sweat prickle his forehead and upper back. He quickly shook the perverted thoughts away.   
  
Not trusting himself, he hesitantly sat at the foot of the bed, right on the very edge, bringing one leg up to cross over his knee. He stared down at his hands, fumbling with the words in his brain. Clenching and unclenching his fist, he ran his thumb along the outside of his fingers in his hand, tempted to crack his knuckles. Steeling himself, he raised his chin and stared out at the cityscape. Watching the ever changing lights glow and flicker.    
  
Ryo stared at Akira's profile, watching the city lights cast different gleams of light along his strong jaw and reflect off his dark eyes. "Akira what is it?" He whispered lowly. Aware that they were in the middle of something big, an important moment. Because of that feeling it didn't seem proper to speak at a normal volume.   
  
Pinching his lips together, a look of fear crossed Akira's face. He cleared his throat once, then twice, until finally he managed to say the words, "We uh, we need to talk about what happened."   
  
Ryo stilled in the bed, his long white nightshirt blending perfectly into the sea of the duvet. Patiently he waited for Akira's next words. Wondering how the other man would summarise that event. Would Akira carve out an excuse or blame himself?   
  
"What happened between us... It was wrong." Akira finished.   
  
Ryo felt his lungs halt at that.    
  
"I," Akira’s voice broke at the next bit, "I took advantage of you, Ryo."   
  
"No." Ryo cut him off.    
  
At that Akira turned instantly, practically clamouring bodily on top of the duvet, till he was completely facing Ryo, "Ryo," He choked between tears, "It wasn't right, I hurt you!"   
  
Clutching the fabric of the duvet, pulling deep wrinkles into it like dark recesses, "Ryo interrupted again, "Akira. Like I told you that night, it was alright!" His tone had raised an octave.   
  
"How,” Akira slashed out an arm, shaking his head, “How could that have been alright?" The image of Ryo lying used on the counter flashed vivid in his mind. Only it was worse now, the image had mutated to a horrific scenario; Ryo lying in a pool of blood, eyes vacant, dead.   
  
Slamming his fist into the duvet, Ryo gritted out, his tiny teeth glinting dangerously, "Because I wanted it!"   
  
That silenced Akira. Without realising, thick fat teardrops dripped sluggishly down his cheeks. "You... what?" He barely managed to say.   
  
Rolling his eyes, Ryo whipped the duvet aside in a grand billowing motion, a tidal wave rising up high into the air as he crawled down the bed until he was just inches away from Akira, their knees touching. 

 

_ Two boys sat on a bed. Reminiscent of all the times they had had sleepovers or slept under the stars together as children. Moments of such purity. It was no longer like that, the innocence had long been lost. _

 

Staring resolutely into Akira’s eyes, Ryo gripped the fabric of his nightshirt in the place over his heart, pulling it taut in his fist, and repeated slowly but firm, "I wanted it, I wanted you that way."   
  
The duvet settled into a misshapen lump along the floor, a tumultuous sea filled with crashing waves. Akira's mouth dropped in disbelief. He didn't understand, “What? Y-y-you… what?"   
  
"Akira Fudo, I want you as my lover!" Ryo snapped. 

Akira's mouth dropped impossibly further. There was a long pregnant silence as Ryo’s eyes pierced holes into Akira’s skull, waiting for an answer.

"But I'm a guy." Akira finally managed to utter in a lame and bewildered voice.

Ryo squinted at him, resisting the urge to facepalm as the ire built under his skin.  _ Akira couldn’t actually be that stupid? _ They'd already had sex once and now he wanted to throw up the taboo of two men? He pinched the bridge of his nose and chose to ignore that little statement, instead pressing forward, attacking and twisting things with his words. " _ What is this Akira?”  _ He hissed, “I was under the impression that what happened between us was consensual." (It hadn’t been. No it was pure manipulation. But Akira didn't need to know that.)   
  
Akira flapped his mouth uselessly for a minute, absolutely flabbergasted at the direction this conversation was taking. "But... I?"   
  
Interrupting, Ryo further pushed his agenda, "Is that why you disappeared for three days? Did you think you'd raped me?" He laughed loudly with a malicious grin. (Really it'd been the other way around.)    
  
Shaking his head, Akira was completely baffled. The memories from the incident flipped by in his head as through fast forwarded on a film reel. Mentally he paused at one particular scene; the one with Ryo looking deep into his eyes, while verbally reassuring Akira that it was okay. 

_ Fuck, could it be true? The horrible assault had actually been consensual? _

Pressing forward Ryo grabbed Akira's shoulder, "You're right about one thing though, I was mad at you!" He shook him, "How dare you just leave me lying there on that countertop." Forcibly he shoved him although it barely even nudged Akira. "You made me feel  _ used _ ." Ryo gritted his teeth and practically spat out the last word.   
  
Blinking, Akira was shocked. The new information rattled around in his brain;  _ it had been consensual? Ryo had wanted it too? Ryo wanted to be with him as a lover? _ His mental thought train stuttered at that... He wasn't sure if a relationship was what he wanted with Ryo. Ultimately in his mind, he still saw Ryo as his friend. A friend that he happened to fantasise about and masterbate over. But yeah, since he'd become a Devilman, he jerked it off to anyone with a nice set of tits or ass. Sure he'd imagined fucking Ryo again and again, but that was most likely just cause he was stuck around him all the time. Like any time he was home, his mind would constantly picture Miki naked. He was pretty much a horn dog all the time. Honestly, he didn’t know if true feelings even came into it.   
  
"What do you want with me Ryo?" He asked more to himself, too afraid to look Ryo in the eye.   
  
"What do I want?" Ryo parroted back. In his mind the words:  _ You _ , _ I want you, _ snapped back shrilly. He shrugged them aside, focusing on his plan. Initially he had just wanted to take Akira's virginity and he had succeeded. Yet strangely he wasn't satisfied with the result. He had felt an ache in his chest when Akira had just walked out and left him lying there like a used whore. That ache had only grown into a putrid pit over those three days Akira had disappeared.  _ Why?  _ Did he want something more from Akira... a relationship perhaps? He pinched his brows, there were too many thoughts, he needed some time to come to a conclusion. He looked up at Akira, who still wouldn’t meet his gaze. Sighing Ryo reached forward, gripping Akira's hand, squeezing it in his.    
  
Akira jerked at the initial touch but didn't pull away. Instead he closed his fingers around Ryo's, hesitantly accepting the gesture but he wasn't willing to instigate any more than that.   
  
"I… care about you." Ryo managed, his words sounded somewhat stilted and unsure even to himself.  _ What did he truly want? _ He remembered his initial desire from the incident; he'd wanted Akira to kiss him. Why? Sex didn't require romantic touches like that, so why, why had he wanted so badly for Akira to kiss him. To show him love and affection? Is that what he wanted? That would explain why he hadn't been satisfied with the sex. He must have wanted something deeper than that. The word  _ love _ , flitted into his mind but he pushed it aside. He didn't believe in love.   
  
Closing his eyes, Akira whispered back, "Me too." He didn't really know what else to say about the subject. His words were true, he really did care about Ryo but whether is was as a friend or a lover... he couldn't tell. He could admit that now they’d had sex once, the line between friendship and lover had become kinda blurred. He needed to think. Pulling his hand away, he stood up from the bed, looking down at Ryo. The top of his blonde hair gold like an angelic halo.

"I need to sort my thoughts out and shit." He said staring out at the doorway.

Ryo nodded, agreeing, thinking the same thing himself. He watched Akira's cat like form slink quietly out of the room, back to his settee. And he wondered, why he wanted to ask him to stay, to share the bed with him. He knew it wasn't for sex. No it was the need to keep Akira close. That frightened him, the notion that he might need Akira that much.   
  
That night neither of them slept very well. Their minds plagued with thoughts.

  
  
***   
  


  
Neither man had school or university to attend and so a day trapped together in the house began.

Feeling bored and fed up with eating Jenny's cooking. Akira decided to whip something up. After Ryo had told him that it had been consensual, his guilt had lessened. To the point that he actually braved the kitchen area. Although he still wouldn't look at the countertop. That was too much. Poking around the cabinets he found a frying pan and checked the fridge. At least it was stocked. Small blessings. He was kinda under the impression that all Ryo ate was those damn calorie pouches.

Jenny was gone who-knows-where but to be honest it wasn't like she added much to the household even when she was there. Mostly she just stood off to the side of the room, her frozen face unseeing, almost like a mannequin or robot. If it wasn't for the fact that she had practically raised Ryo, Akira would be unsettled by her. Instead he had gotten used to pretending she wasn't there. Which helped... Psycho Jenny was  _ heavily endowed _ to the say least. He’d had to train himself to keep his gaze fixed to her face. Afraid that if he looked at her massive cleavage it would spark an uncontrollable fit of lust.

With a sleepy gait, Ryo padded into the kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs had roused him. Needless to say after his conversation with Akira last night, he hadn't slept a wink until the sun had rose. Then he had only managed maybe an hour or so. All in all he was wracked. He hadn't even bothered to change out his nightshirt; a loose white shirt that reached down over his bare knees. He hoped Akira didn't mind that he was walking about like this, (not that he would know that underneath he wasn't wearing any underwear.)   
  
Hearing the padded footfalls, Akira turned and looked at Ryo. A keen smile blossomed on his face, under his breath he hummed a merry tune as he stirred the spatula around the pan cooking the eggs and bacon. "Morning.”   
  
Nodding Ryo continued on in his sleepy pace until he reached the kitchen table, setting himself down the chairl. He held his face in his hand and watched Akira between his fingers. Briefly he wondered where Jenny was. Normally she'd have a mug of coffee already sitting hot and ready for him at the table.   
  
With a light clatter, Akira set a plate full of greasy food down before Ryo. He then settled himself on the chair directly across from Ryo, his own plate filled with double the portion size. Between mouthfuls of fried egg and bacon, he said, "I didn't think -mmph- you had any real food in your fridge."   
  
Ryo stared at the glutton opposite him. Akira’s cheeks were swollen up like a hamster as he continue to stuff more forkfuls of food into his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the first bit.

"I had Jenny stock the fridge with food high in protein for you." He answered, watching Akira’s cheeks expand impossibly further.

Akira raised his eyebrows at this, his lips pressed into a duck beak shape at the thoughtful gesture by Ryo. Well at least thoughtful in terms of Ryo. "Thanks-mpfh."   
  
Managing a small smile, Ryo lifted his fork, poking at the food on his plate. Pushing the food round and around.  
  
Clearing his plate already, Akira jumped to his feet and in an instant he was at Ryo's side, leaning over him, "Hey Ryo, you have to eat it! I cooked it especially for you." He gripped Ryo’s shoulder, squeezing gently, "You can't live on that energy calorie shit."   
  
Through hooded eyelids and fluffy lashes, Ryo stared up unimpressed at Akira, "What are you, my wife?"   
  
At that, Akira stuttered and pulled away, mumbling what sounded like an embarrassed, _no_. He held an arm behind his head, rubbing his neck. _Okay yeah, so maybe he was kinda acting like a doting wife, wanting her husband to try her cooking..._ But yeah he did want Ryo to try it and to praise him too! Gumption returning full swing; he verbally acclaimed that he had cooked it! So Ryo would eat it whether he liked it or not! He plunked himself down on the chair right next to Ryo and yanked the fork from his hand, scooping up a big portion of egg along with a strip of bacon and held it up to Ryo's mouth.  
  
Ryo's eye widened and he leaned away. He'd been fed burger meat by Akira before but there was something different about this, something romantically inclined. He wasn’t sure as to why… perhaps because utensils were involved or could it be the fact that Akira had personally prepared the food just for him? He didn’t know which but it was making his heart flutter strangely in his chest. He frowned outwardly at the sensation. Was this a heart murmur? He protested, "Akira that's far too big-”

Right as Akira shoved the hearty portion into Ryo’s open mouth, leaving a greasy smear on his lips. His cheeks puffed out comically, stuffed completely. For a second, Ryo just sat there with his mouth swollen with food and just stared in disbelief at Akira.

Akira stared back, a delighted smile on his face as he made an encouraging gesture with his hand for Ryo to chew. His whole face had lit up with excitement and damn Ryo couldn’t refuse him. Chewing carefully Ryo finally managed to swallow the big lump of food, feeling it slide down his throat. It tasted alright, -he could admit to himself- he managed an appreciative nod to Akira, hoping that would suffice. Truthfully he didn't see the appeal in  _ real  _ food. His calorie packs, had all his needs. Able to ingest them within a minute, they instantly provided him with all the energy and essential vitamins and minerals he needed. It was far superior. Who knew what grease and toxins were in this fried mess? Yet looking at the elated smile on Akira's face and the unbridled glee in his eyes, he ended up smiling back. Just a small curl of his lips, though.   
  
"Oh hey, you've a little something-" Akira gestured to Ryo's cheek.   
  
Ryo half heartedly lifted his hand up, unable to find the spot.   
  
Laughing pleasedly, Akira pressed forward, gripping Ryo's chin in his large warm hand. Delicately his thumb wiped away the residual egg gloop. For a moment his hand remained there, just stroking Ryo's cheek. Marvelling at how soft his skin was.  _ This was nice _ , his mind whispered,  _ kinda romantic too _ . For a second he wondered if maybe he could like Ryo  _ that way _ . Maybe they could be together as a couple. He looked deep into Ryo's eyes and found himself taken aback at the surprised almost unfathomable expression there, like Ryo couldn’t believe this was happening, he didn't seem to be breathing either. 

Akira leaned forward -he didn't know why- he just wanted to be closer, his eyes focused on Ryo's lips. Thin and chapped, he wondered what it would feel like to kiss them.

  
**Knock knock Knock** ****  
****  
The rapt at the door, broke them apart. With parted lips and a frightful expression, Akira jumbled out a clumsy “I’ll get it,” As he turned tail. Leaving a confused and breathless Ryo at the table. In Akira’s mind he thought it must be Jenny, figuring she'd been out doing chores and forgotten her keys or some crap. He was glad for the interruption, something had almost happened between him and Ryo and he wasn’t sure what to feel about it. Pulling open the door, his mouth dropped.   
  
Miki stood on the other side. Instantly a huge grin appeared on her face at the sight of Akira. She called his name and immediately launched forward wrapping her arms around him. 

Instinctually he hugged her back, honestly delighted to see her. He had been afraid before that he would hurt her, but since hearing that what had happened between him and Ryo was consensual, then he had decided to cut himself some slack.

Behind the cosy and nauseating scene, Ryo dropped his fork with an angry metallic clack.

It went ignored by the happy duo.

Miki stood back and pointed a tiny finger in Akira's face, "Akira when are you coming home!?" She then told him off, "Mama, Papa and little brother all miss you!"   
  
Akira laughed, so loudly and full of cheer. 

To which Ryo noted with budding jealousy that that laugh had sounded far more genuine and happier than any of the laughs he’d heard from Akira the whole week in the suite.

Tapping a finger playfully on her button nose, Akira smiled huge and teasing. He was feeling more like himself just by seeing her. He closed one eye, and in a silly voice he flirted, "Aw, are  _ you _ sure you didn't miss me?"   
  
Miki laughed, the sound like tinkling bells. She stuck out her tongue, "Miss you?! Nope never!!"    
  
Ryo felt his anger and jealousy coil and morph like a hot bubbling snake under his skin. Did they really have the sheer audacity to flirt with each other! Not only in his own home  _ but right in front of him! _ __  
__  
Their laughter quietened down and for a second Miki looked forlorn, "Seriously though, will you please come home. Okay?"   
  
Her tone of voice struck Akira deep, made his eyes well up. He couldn’t let her go looking so miserable. He only ever wanted her to be happy. Coming to a quick solution, he clapped his closed fist to his open palm, "Don’t worry about it, I'll grab my stuff now.”

Miki’s mouth popped open into an excited little ‘o’ shape, “Really?”

“Yeah absolutely, I'll head back home with ya right now."

Immediately Ryo rose to his feet, his chair scraping along the floor in an angered fury. Akira barely registered the noise, he’d already grabbed his duffel bag -the one he'd ran away with over a week ago- and slung it over his shoulder. He was just at the door completely forgetting to so much as say a goodbye to the other man when Ryo promptly blocked his path.   
  
"What are you doing!?” He barely managed to keep his tone calm. Though his pale blue eyes held an intense crazed look to them.   
  
"I'm heading home for a bit, Ryo." Akira replied coolly like everything was just fine and dandy.   
  
Instantly Ryo grabbed Akira’s arm and pulled him aside and far away from the door. He hissed under his breath, "What are you doing, it's not safe for that girl if you go back there."   
  
A hurt look crossed Akira’s face at Ryo’s sharp words and tone. He swallowed and easily shook him off, "Ryo, it's been over a week and nothing has happened.” Glancing over his shoulder at the doorway hosting Miki, “You said it yourself,” He tried to say the next bit as quiet as possible, “What happened was consensual." 

Dumbfounded horror shot through Ryo.

With that little bomb dropped, Akira was out through the door. Miki skipping along beside him, her arm looped through his as she chattered banally.

Their jovial noises faded away as Ryo’s jaw trembled, his teeth unsure whether to grind together or sink into his lip. And then the silence of his suite became unbearable. He screeched out loud, **“** ** _Fuuuuuuck!”_** Grabbing the door he slammed it shut with such force that the painting on the wall rattled on it’s fixture. _Fuck!_ How had he not foreseen this outcome!? He had never thought for a second that Akira would twist back the confession of it being consensual and use it as an excuse to return home! Ryo dug his hands into his hair, clawing his nails along his scalp. Fuck he should have lied! Should have tied Akira down with verbal chains of guilt and force fed lies down his throat to make him stay! Seething Ryo threw the plate off the table, smashing into a mess of ceramic bits and lumpy cold food. He tugged a hand down his face, breathing in and out heavily in an attempt to calm down. 

Opening his eyes with renewed fervour, he swore to himself that,  _ he would get Akira back! And this time, there would be no leaving. _

 

***   
In the dark of night Ryo stood under the single source of light, a street lamp. The yellow glare reflected off the hood of his white coat creating a heavenly glow. He tilted his head to the side.The tips of his fingers not covered by the long billowing sleeves of his coat felt cold in the night air. Just a few feet behind him, Psycho Jenny sat stationed in the car with her hands on the wheel. His getaway driver.   
  
Across the street, he stared into the home of Miki Makimura. The curtains weren't pulled, allowing him to see everything inside. He stood outside like an orphan, alone in the street, watching the family inside, jolly and celebrating. People whom he assumed were the parents of Miki were gathered in the living room. The father figure patted Akira affectionately on the back, happy to see him home. While the mother laughed and smiled, carrying in a tray of mugs filled with steaming tea. As the youngest child bounced around the legs of the adults, pulling on Akira's shirt to grab his attention, chattering non-stop. Even the cat joined in the pretty picture, rubbing its head affectionately on Akira's ankle.  _ No doubt leaving a stench. _ And all the while, Miki Makimura beamed this massive smile, full of pure delight and joy that Akira was back home with her. 

**IT MADE HIM SICK.**   
  
Minutely he scowled, irritation making him grind his teeth. Breathing out heavily in a long sigh of cold air that was visible in the cold, he steadied himself. From his coat he removed his mobile phone, holding it out flat on one hand. The digital screen hummed an eerie blue glow on his face. Raising his head, -his chin held high with anger- he pinned Akira in a glare. Demanding him to make eye contact and see him through the window. He saw it as Akira’s one last chance.   
  
He didn't see him.   
  
Ryo shook his head once, it couldn't be helped then. He raised up his other hand, his index finger extended, like a judge about to hand down a sentence. On the screen of his phone, small text confirmed that the device had managed to connect to the Makimura's sound system built within the house.  _ Honestly, _ people had no idea how easy it was hack technology. Thinking it kept them safe, when in fact it was the opposite. Locking his eyes on Akira's laughing and smiling face, he pressed his finger to the ‘play’ icon. Rolling his neck minutely from side to side, the hood on his head slipped forward resting just above his brow, shading his eyes in shadow until only a malicious gleam of blue was left visible.    
  
Inside the house, Akira suddenly tensed up, his mouth screwing into an obvious grimace. The hand that held the proffered mug started to shake. 

All of it was visible to Ryo standing across the street. But it wasn’t  _ good enough. _   
  
Lifting his finger elegantly like a pianist picking which key to play next, he pressed his fingertip onto the slider tap on the screen. His pinky finger extended graciously. Slowly he dragged it up and up, increasing the intensity. All the while his facial expression remained cold, expressionless. To anyone passing by it would look like a normal young person, simply using a touch screen phone.   
  
The slider was halfway up the bar.

  
Akira had dropped the mug, his body full on trembling, claws forcing their way out from his nail beds. His mouth had torn open in painful anguish, screaming.    
  
Ryo remained impassive as he pushed the slider up to the highest intensity. And simply blinked when he heard the shrill voices of the family screaming mutedly through the glass windows. The women and child’s high pitched wails were annoyingly shrill. Whereas the father roared and screamed lower, more guttural. A frency erupted as furniture was thrown about, crashing and splintering into pieces. 

_ Music to his ears. _

Blood splattered thick and goopy up into the glass windows, dripping down gloriously. Unfortunately blocking the view but he was convinced that it was all going according to plan, that Akira was currently tearing his pathetic little makeshift family into pieces.

A serene smile graced his lips as he looked proudly at his mobile phone. The song he had intercepted into the Makimura’s sound system had been the same from Akira's and his 'first time'. He’d simply altered the intensity and thereby he was able to transform it from a ‘Call of Lust’ to an ‘Attack of Wrath.’ It was important to mention that he had also cleverly and downright deviously lowered the frequency, so that only a Devilman would be able to hear it. He couldn't risk any humans reporting they'd heard a strange sound on that night.

Now Akira wouldn't stop until he'd slaughtered everyone in that house. Ryo had considered that it would take some cleaning up afterwards. But he'd decided he'd pull some strings, flash some cash here and there and have it all covered up as an animal attack. He couldn’t allow his Akira to take the blame and be ‘put down’ so to speak.

  
Suddenly the window of the front room smashed, the glass shattering with an ear rupturing brattle sound. In an instant Akira had flung himself threw and was lying in a crumpled heap at Ryo's feet. Glass coated his body and he was soaked in blood. Petulantly in clear distress and pain, he sobbed with unseeing eyes.   
  
With a tap of his finger, Ryo hit the stop button, ending the song.    
  
Thwacking a heavy hand forward, Akira dug his nails into the dirt and gravel, dragging himself bodily towards Ryo.    
  
In the corner of Ryo’s eye, Jenny tensed up, ready to jump out of the car. But he held his hand up flat, signalling stop. She obeyed.   
  
Ryo tilted his head and in the way one would look at a particularly annoying and stupid child, he looked down at Akira. He’d bodily dragged himself over and wound his arms around Ryo’s legs, looking desperately up at him. His fingernails were bloodied and kept catching on the sheer material of Ryo’s white jeans.

In the dark night, Akira looked up at Ryo. His friend dressed all in white. A saviour, an angel. "R-Ryo," He slurred, his mouth a wash of blood and his face stained with tears, "Ryo please help me!" He buried his face into Ryo's trouser leg. The hem of Ryo’s coat, trailed over Akira’s neck, almost as though it could slide over him and shield him. Keep him protected in the white aura that was Ryo.

A wicked smile slit up Ryo's face. He dropped to one knee, his arms scooping around Akira's middle, hoisting him up till they were eye level. The warm wet blood seeped into his coat, attempting to mare its purity but it couldn’t. Not in Ryo’s opinion anyway, blood was clean, it washed out bacteria and it was life. Or in this case, the delectable end of the Makimura’s lives.

Dazedly Akira stared back at him, trying to focus on that angelic face as his hands lamely pawed at Ryo's coat, leaving bloody handprints.  

Ryo noted that Akira was having trouble focusing his gaze. Perhaps the intensity of the song had been too much? But Ryo had gotten want he wanted in the end: the annihilation of the Makimura's. Firmly he gripped the soft underside of Akira's jaw, pulling him till he was inches from his face with Ryo’s eyes fixed to his. "I told you not to go." He said simply, the way an adult would reprimand a child.

Akira's face screwed up at that and sobbed; fat ugly tears mixed with snot. Dimples on his chin emerged as his scrumpled up face poured out its grief.    
  
Manoeuvring himself up into a standing position, Ryo pulled Akira up with him, holding him possessively to his chest. With a simple tilt of his head, Ryo gestured for Jenny to pull the car around. At that moment, Miki Makimura burst out from the house.    
  
Disdainfully Ryo eyed her. A survivor. And of course it was  _ her. _ With his other hand, he coldly and efficiently ripped out the large gun he always carried concealed inside his coat. With one hand, he pointed it at her, the gun already cocked, ready to blow her to pieces. He pulled the trigger.   
  
At the exact time, Akira head butted Ryo, the gun’s nozzle flitted skyward, pistoning bullets into the house’s walls, completely missing their target.   
  
"Akira!" He growled, furious.   
  
In response Akira gripped Ryo's wrist, squeezing, trying to get him to drop the gun. "I won't let you hurt them." He slurred.   
  
_ Them?  _   
  
He looked again over at the house and saw in the doorway gathered with Miki, the father figure cautiously holding his wife as the boy hid behind his leg. They'd survived. All of them. Albeit they looked shaken and worse for wear. Something hissed at him just as the cat dashed out past his leg, jumping the wall into a neighbouring home.  _ Even the fucking cat! _ __  
  
A moment of insanity gripped him, and he fought with Akira for purchase of the gun. 

Ultimately brute strength won out. The gun fell with a clatter onto the road. Ryo tsked, beyond furious but he knew when to relent. Releasing the tension in his shoulders, he adjusted his stance.

Psycho Jenny pulled the car up next to them. He ripped the door to the backside open and managed to shoved Akira bodily inside. He clambered in after him. Akira still had some fight left in him and grabbed Ryo and the two tumbled and struggled. In their tousle, Ryo was able to discern through the shredded remains of Akira’s clothes that the large amount of blood had been his own. He’d self-inflicted injuries onto himself, slicing into his own abdomen just to stop himself from hurting the Makimura’s. Admirable, but annoying.

Vacating the car, Jenny picked up the gun and slid it down the inside of her blazer, hooking it into her pants. She didn't say a word to the stunned family, instead slamming the backseat door and calmly walked back to the driver’s seat.

  
  
*   
The car sped down the highway, the streetlights flashing by one after the other, casting a yellow glow for seconds at a time.   
  
Inside the car Akira lay flat on his back with Ryo lying on top of him. The fight had ended and now he sobbed, his tears thick and impossibly gloopy like. They spilled down onto the fine leather of Ryo's car, glittering every now and then as a street lamp passed by.   
  
Perched on top of him, Ryo waited patiently, his gaze fixed to Akira's face. When the silence only punctuated by sobs and sniffles continued without any sign of stopping. He pressed forward, gently cupping Akira's cheek, trying to brush aside the ever flowing tears but to no avail.   
  
Finally Akira managed a sentence, "You were right," He sobbed, "I nearly killed them."   
  
Ryo fought back a pleased grin. His other hand coming up to cup Akira's face. Both hands just held him there comfortingly. In his best understanding voice, he whispered in the dark of the car, "Stay with me, Akira."   
  
A lamplight flashed by fast, the roar and hustle of the car smooth. In that second, Ryo's hair glowed gold and his eyes sparkled angelically.   
  
Biting his lower lip, tears and snot dripping down his face, Akira nodded.   
  
Ryo leaned closer his breath ghosting along Akira's face, "Say it Akira, say you'll stay, say you'll never leave me."   
  
"I'll stay." Akira managed, his voice raw.   
  
A devilish smile raked across Ryo's face. He needed to cement this moment. He pressed forward and captured Akira's lips with his own. Tasting the mix of salty tears and copper tint of blood. He closed his eyes revelling in it, this was it. This was moment he had wanted from that very first time. He pulled back, his eyes drinking in everything about Akira's expression. 

He looked gobsmacked, stunned and completely blown away. Akira lifted a hand up, touching Ryo's lips just tracing along their thin outline, noting how the blood had left a stain that had started to seeped into the dry cracks. "I won’t leave you." He croaked.

  
Ryo smiled, his white teeth glinting under the passing streetlight. Akira was his, entirely.   
  
*   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve decided to end of the story here.  
> Thanks to everyone who has and will leave comments.
> 
> Lots of love to you all <3

**Author's Note:**

> I think it's important to say that -to anyone who has read this- this is an unhealthy depiction of a sexual interaction between two people. It started as a manipulation tactic and then got way out of Ryo's control. It's also important to note that I don't condone or encourage a relationship like this. That is not to say that a scenario like this couldn't be enacted out safely between two consenting adults. Still this is simply a work of fiction, exploring that scenario. Exploring how a person would deal with that situation. If anyone has been affected by this or feel they want to talk about any subjects that may have come to mind while reading this, then please message me on tumblr. I'm there by the same moniker: CreepyCoat 
> 
> Thank you <3


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